Simply Irresistible
by SpyGirl1969
Summary: Lee escorts Amanda to the Fireman's Ball which causes their relationship to heat up a bit.


Author:

Spygirl1969; KimC

Disclaimer I:

I do not now, nor have I ever owned, Scarecrow and Mrs. King. They belong exclusively to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions.

Disclaimer II:

I do not own, nor did I write the song "Simply Irresistible". As far as I know, the song is written by Robert Palmer, who also performed the song in 1988.

Timeline:

Season Three

Rating:

PG-13 for a bit of heat.

Summary:

Lee escorts Amanda to the Fireman's Ball which causes their relationship to heat up a bit.

Warning:

None, except that this story does not follow canon (as most of my stories don't, why should this one be any different?).

Author's Notes:

I am taking a bit of creative license with the song "Simply Irresistible". It wasn't released until 1988, and this story takes place in early third season, making it 1985. I hope you can all overlook this; my beta reader recommended it for a title and I simply couldn't… resist. Also, I make mention of a couple of movies that came out in 1986. I don't know what time of year they came out, and as I'm vague with the timing of this story and simply say season three, I gave myself leeway to use them. Please forgive me if you happen to know their exact release dates and don't feel it fits with the timeline of the story. 

Author's Gratitude:

I must give my beta a huge hug and thank you for once again persevering in assisting me in editing, improving, and of course, episodic research (by far the most arduous task, hehe). She also suggested the summary, which is much better than what I had come up with.

**Simply Irresistible**

There was something different about Amanda lately. Of course, his growing attraction to her had drastically changed how he viewed her, and he admitted to himself that it might be that simple. So he found her attractive, so what? It didn't mean he wanted to _marry _her or anything! And yet, even as he had the thought, he knew it was more than attraction.

She was due to arrive any moment; she was meeting him at his apartment and from there they would ride together to the Fireman's Ball. It would be a cakewalk; there was no contact to meet, no foul play suspected. Every year, at least one agent was assigned to be there – just in case – to protect DC's finest against possible threat.

Lee had briefly considered asking someone from his little black book collection, more out of habit than any real desire to see any of them. Sure, they all would have jumped at the chance to be in a room full of firefighters, but as he had thought about them, not one had particularly appealed to him. A few of them even thought _he_ was a firefighter, which could prove awkward. In the end, he had decided instead to call Amanda – which had been his first impulse anyway – and he'd been relieved when she had said she was free and would be happy to accompany him.

Of course she had asked what the assignment was, if they were meeting a contact, and who they would be tailing or protecting, all in one breath. She had been genuinely surprised to hear that all they had to do was be there. She had even sounded a bit suspicious. Lee wondered what was so strange about him asking her to go because… well, just _because_.

They had agreed that she would meet him at his apartment, as the ball was taking place at the Georgetown Hyatt, just a few blocks away from Lee's apartment. He had, of course, offered to pick her up – he had been sincere when he said it would be his pleasure – but she had insisted that he not 'waste the time and the gas'. As if it would be a waste of anything to give her a ride!

He pulled on his tuxedo jacket and checked himself out in the mirror one last time, assuring himself that he was impeccable. He smoothed down a few errant hairs and straightened his tie. It was important to him to look his best for… Wait, for who? Amanda? A crooked grin broke out on his face at the thought. But… yes, for Amanda. Why not? He only wished he knew what she _thought_ of him. Most women, he knew, found him pretty irresistible. But Amanda? He was never sure. She had told him a time or two that he looked handsome. However, there _was_ that time when she said his legs were just 'okay.' That simple, honest answer had bothered Lee ever since. Well, tonight his legs were covered; no need to worry on that score!

It wasn't as if he were eager to impress Amanda – far from it. They worked together and sure, he had grown to consider her a friend… More and more, it seemed that the better he knew her, the better he liked her. She was easy to talk to, a good listener, she was genuinely interested in what he had to say, and she always had practical advice. She never had an ulterior motive as did so many women, no hidden agenda. He found it refreshing.

His doorbell sounded, and Lee smiled as he grabbed his keys from the table. Turning off his living room light, he hurried to the door and pulled it open. He was completely unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

Amanda was wearing a fire-engine red gown covered in tiny crystalline sequins that caught the light and sparkled enticingly. The gown had spaghetti straps, and the bodice, though not low by any means, dipped in an appealing 'V'. A flounced ruffle that went to just above her ankles gave the dress a flirty effect and highlighted matching shoes – _ruby red slippers_, he thought inanely – with delicate straps. Her hair was different tonight, side-swept and held in tiny jeweled combs, her bangs curling gently around her face.

"Hey," he said gruffly, hating how juvenile he sounded. Where was his charm, his sophistication? Wait, why did he think he _needed_ charm and sophistication with Amanda? And why the hell was his heart suddenly thumping wildly against his ribcage? Why was he reacting to Amanda the way he would if she were… if she were… _What_, Stetson? If she were _what_?

"Hi," she said. Catching his expression, she glanced down at her attire self-consciously. "Oh, no," she moaned ruefully, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "The dress isn't appropriate, is it? I never know what to wear to these things. I thought red would be fine, since it's a Fireman's Ball. At first I thought everyone would be wearing red, well, at least all the women, but then I thought, why not? Oh, gosh, just tell me. Is it too much? Not enough?"

He realized that he had given her completely the wrong impression. "No! It's fine," he said quickly, intending to reassure her but knowing that he was doing an inadequate job. _Fine_, as if they were discussing the weather, or lunch. It was just such a… such a _fine line_, complimenting Amanda. Too little and he would hurt her feelings. Too much and she might get the wrong idea. What wrong idea? He flinched inwardly. Was he really such a cad that he assumed one little compliment from him would turn her to mush and she'd expect him to propose on the spot?

"I can tell by your face it's not fine," she replied, both her expression and her tone registering her disappointment and embarrassment. "You look just like the boys do when they swallow cough syrup – and not the cherry-flavored kind, either – regular medicine-y kind. Is there time for me to run home and change? I could just meet you there. I know I have a black dress that should be—"

Recovering from her cough syrup analogy, Lee held up one hand. "Amanda," he cut in gently, stepping forward. "You don't need to change. Your dress is perfect; I'm going to be the envy of every man there. You… you look beautiful."

He saw the faint blush rise in her cheeks as she averted her eyes and shook her head self-deprecatingly. "Oh, Lee… Thanks, but you don't have to say that."

What killed him was that it was obvious that she wasn't fishing for more compliments. She honestly thought he was just being nice. The fact was that Amanda King was not like other women. She was beautiful without knowing it, smart without flaunting it, and kind to a fault. And when she said his name like that – so familiar and so _intimate_ – it gave him ideas he really shouldn't be having about her.

"I wouldn't say it if it weren't true," he insisted. Maybe she always assumed that when he complimented her he was being insincere because he so rarely did say anything nice or complimentary to her, he mused guiltily.

"Okay, well… thanks." Sounding far from convinced, she shrugged lightly, glanced at him shyly, and turned away. "So, should we get going then?" she asked, effectively changing the subject in typical Amanda fashion. As he watched appreciatively, she drew her black lace shawl up over her shoulders to protect against the chilly autumn evening. Despite her occasional bouts of clumsiness, she possessed an innate, understated elegance that reminded him of Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly.

"Sure," he agreed amiably, wishing he could back up and do the moment over again. Why hadn't he just raised his eyebrows appreciatively and told her right off the bat that she looked amazing, fabulous, gorgeous? A hundred fitting, more charming adjectives flooded his mind belatedly. Why could he do that with any other woman – even Francine – but not with Amanda? What was his _problem_? He wasn't sure he wanted to delve too deeply into the answer.

As he helped Amanda into his car, he caught a tantalizing whiff of her spicy-citrus perfume and found it hard to resist leaning closer for more. She seemed very self-conscious and again he cursed himself for the way he had acted when he first saw her. Now she would doubt herself all evening, even after she proved to be the most stunning woman at the ball. 'Whoa, where did _that _come from?' he thought.

Lee shook his head as he rounded the car and opened the driver's side door. Sliding in, he glanced over at his partner and saw her staring straight ahead. He almost said something more about how great she looked, but he knew from experience that saying anything else would only make her feel more awkward and confirm her belief that he was trying to make up for his earlier blunder. With a sigh, he started the engine and wordlessly headed toward the hotel.

A valet accepted Lee's keys as he stepped out of the vehicle and around to Amanda's side where another attendant was assisting her out of the car, giving her a very appreciative once-over. Amanda, of course, was oblivious to the man's perusal, her attention focused on disentangling her purse strap from the folds of her shawl.

Lee offered her his hand and she took it. The electric thrill that shot up Lee's arm surprised him as it always did, but he saw no sign in Amanda's face that she had felt it, too. Frowning slightly, he nodded at the doorman who allowed them entry after glancing at their invitation, ushering Amanda inside.

"Oh, my gosh," she whispered in awe, gazing around the opulently decorated lobby. "It's like walking into a fairy tale, and we're not even in the main room yet. Look at all the lights!" Her face was aglow with wonder and Lee found that looking at _her_ was far more pleasant than looking at the splendor of the decked-out hotel foyer. A nervous lump formed in his throat as he wondered what was wrong with him tonight. It was as if he were enchanted by Amanda. _Amanda_ – his co-worker. His assistant. A divorcee, mother-of-two, suburban-dwelling, cookie-baking, PTA-attending, den-mothering homemaker… a homemaker who had just slipped the shawl from her perfectly sculpted shoulders and was innocently draping it over her arm… a divorcee who seemed more alluringly innocent than most single women her age... a cookie-baker who was able to make him weak in the knees with a smile.

Oh boy.

The play of muscles under her skin made his fingers itch to reach out and touch her. He could scarcely wait to get her onto the dance floor so that he would have a viable excuse to do so. Amanda's company had always been enjoyable, even when he was busy acting irritated with her. An act – that was all it had been. His irritation had mostly sprung from the fact that he was drawn to her warm, friendly manner. It was a sobering revelation, especially since many times in the past he had allowed his irritation to show.

He was so lost in thought that he had stopped walking without realizing it. Coming out of his reverie, he saw that they were standing in the corridor outside the double doors leading to the ball. Suddenly he could hear music and voices from inside, and he gave himself a mental shake.

His eyes slid over to Amanda, who was watching him in concern. "Lee, are you sure you feel up to this? You seem like you're not feeling that well. I've been trying to get your attention, but it's like you didn't even hear me!"

Had he really been that wrapped up in his own thoughts? "I'm sorry, Amanda," he replied, his voice unaccountably thick. His mind was whirling at the knowledge that he had always liked Amanda more than he let on, even in the very beginning. Having her right here looking like a goddess was not helping matters. "Um… I'm fine. Let's go in."

"Okay," she said doubtfully. "But if you want to leave, just tell me and I'll call Mr. Melrose so he can send someone else down here."

She was looking at him with such genuine concern, her brown eyes wide and watchful. And she had no idea that he had just realized that he was not only attracted to her but that he was _incredibly_ attracted to _everything_ about her. What was 'different' about Amanda was – as he had suspected – his _own_ perception of her. He gave her a small smile, feeling a bit queasy. She was his partner, his friend! How could he risk losing her friendship if things didn't work out? Could he go on working with her? Yet how could he go on the way things were, not touching her, not holding her, not _kissing_ her? His eyes focused on her lips, he forced himself to say, "I'm fine, Amanda, really. But thanks for being concerned." Giving her a weak smile, he prepared to enter the ballroom.

"You just look so… so _flushed_," she countered, looking obstinate. At the same time, she looked like she was waiting for him to snap at her… like she _expected_ him to snap at her. "I'm just telling you what I see," she added defensively.

At one time, he _would_ have snapped at her for mothering him. Now, however, her concern fed a strange, new hope that was beginning to grow inside of him. He didn't know how to define it; he wasn't even sure it _was_ hope. All he knew was that if she were concerned about him, it was a good thing. He smiled at her again.

Amanda frowned in bemused confusion. "You're not yourself tonight, Scarecrow. You're smiling way too much and not griping at me enough. If you don't have a fever by the end of the night, I'll eat my shoe," she said, and turned to go into the ballroom. This gave him his first glimpse of the back of her dress, and he felt his eyes widen in surprise. All thoughts fled his mind. The thin spaghetti straps delved down past her delicate shoulders, meeting up with the dress again, which continued to dip down to her mid-back, then drape in soft folds which swung enticingly as she walked away. She didn't glance back at him; she had absolutely no clue that in the simple act of walking away from him, she had set Lee Stetson on fire.

"Not the kind of fever _you're_ thinking of," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it. Reaching up, he stuck a finger into his suddenly suffocating collar, tempted to undo his top button. It was ridiculously hot in the hotel; why weren't the damned air-conditioners on?

He had to get hold of the situation, and fast… but how? Okay, maybe a review of the facts was in order – a rundown of the usual reasons he gave himself as to why she was off-limits and an entirely inappropriate choice for a romantic liaison.

Amanda King was a mother, yes. She lived in the suburbs in a two-story house with a white picket fence with her two young sons and her mother. She was a divorcee. She was on the PTA and she participated in every bake sale she humanly could. She was a bit klutzy but had great instincts. She could be aggravating and she was stubborn as hell. But Amanda King was also one thing that Lee had somehow lost sight of for over two years now…

Amanda King was a very attractive, beautiful, _sexy_ woman.

This review wasn't working out quite the way Lee had hoped it would.

Having stopped walking, Amanda slowly turned around to see where he was, her eyes scanning the crowd. Seeing him still standing right inside the double doors of the ballroom, she stood there for a few seconds just looking at him. He ought to join her, but he was literally unable to move his feet. Amanda finally shook her head, flung up her arms in an exasperated manner and turned away again, moving off on her own.

Lee was rooted to the floor. He silently berated himself, his defenses scrambling to fortify themselves. Well, of _course_ Amanda was a woman! It wasn't as though he had thought of her as a man all this time! What was the point of his unwelcome epiphany, anyway? Oh yes… that Amanda was sexy. _Amanda _was _sexy._ He was tempted to say it out loud, but didn't for fear of being overheard and thought to be some sort of party-crashing miscreant.

A few yards away, Lee caught sight of a buxom, flaxen-haired Barbie doll in a sky-blue dress that left little to the imagination. Her makeup, apparently, had been artfully applied with a garden trowel. She was smiling coyly at him, her kohl-lined eyes clearly sending an invitation.

He smiled back sickly, realizing that she held no attraction for him whatsoever. Lee felt as if he'd been kicked in the gut. He knew damn well that even three months ago, he would have already been at her side, asking her to dance in his best seductive voice, perhaps playing the astronaut card. Now, however, he found himself wondering where Amanda had got to, and knowing that no matter where she was, she would already have caught the direct attention of at least two men and the indirect attention of a dozen or more.

Another glance at the plastic blonde told him that a long-haired young man had been caught in her web… She looked at Lee regretfully and shrugged, as if to say, 'It's your loss.' Lee didn't think so… He hadn't lost anything, because he could find his partner and ask her to dance. His arms felt empty and he knew instinctively that they would remain so until they were circling Amanda King.

Ignoring the warning bells that went off inside his mind, he forced his feet to move and made his way through the crowd of people toward the dance floor. He saw Amanda talking with a distinguished-looking gentleman and felt his hackles rise when she smiled and nodded, accepting his hand as he led her into the dancing fray. Lee gawked as the man placed one hand on Amanda's waist and pulled her closer. When Amanda caught sight of him and met his eyes, however, Lee had schooled his features into a mask of indifference. He gave her a brief smile and turned his back on her.

"Lee Stetson, _darling_ man!" Marian McAllister and her husband, former Senator James McAllister, greeted him. "It's been simply _ages_! How are you?"

"Hello, Senator, Mrs. McAllister," Lee replied, genuinely glad to see them and grateful for the distraction from seeing Amanda in another man's arms. "I'm just fine. How are the two of you?"

"Good as gold, Lee," James said, shaking his hand firmly. "Good as gold. Tell me, is that charming Amanda King with you tonight?"

"Uh, yeah," Lee said, frowning slightly in confusion as he accepted a glass of wine from a passing server. "You know Amanda?"

"_Silly_ boy," Mrs. McAllister chided him, patting at her upswept auburn hair. "Don't you remember? We met her at a function just like this one about a year ago and have seen her with you a few times since at various affairs. Are the two of you together yet?"

"Now, Marian," James cut in, casting Lee an apologetic glance. "None of your match-making tonight, my dear. Look, there's Mrs. King right over there, dancing with another man. If she were here _with_ Lee, he wouldn't let that happen. Would you, Lee?" Not giving him a chance to answer, the former Senator went on. "Not Lee. No; he and Mrs. King work together. Nothing more." Clearly, even the former Senator had at some point gotten an earful of Lee's usual we're-not-together spiel. To Lee, he said confidentially, "Marian watches way too much Remington Steele."

Lee smiled half-heartedly. Remington Steele was a television show about crime-solving partners who gradually became attracted to one another and then fell in love. He had watched it a few times after Amanda mentioned that she watched it with her mother. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Tonight everything seemed to be conspiring against him, breaking down his walls even as he desperately tried to rebuild them.

"Ugh! How _un_romantic you are," Marian responded, setting her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. "Such a shame; you would make a handsome, _charming_ couple, simply charming, just like Laura and Rem." She sighed dramatically. "I could have sworn there was a spark there; I'm usually very perceptive about these things. She's a perfect match for you, young man. Such a _lovely_ woman…"

James nodded patronizingly but indulgently at his wife, taking her by the elbow and leading her toward the dance floor after winking good-naturedly at Lee.

Lee nodded and smiled faintly as they drifted away, their attention diverted by friends. Yes, Amanda _was_ lovely. And yes, she was dancing with another man because he had let her wander off without him after inadvertently giving her the impression that he wasn't interested in being with her tonight. He knew exactly what was going to happen. It never took long; he ought to have known she would attract men like flies, especially in that dress.

The song ended and he watched as Amanda thanked the man for the dance but declined a second. Lee perked up as he saw her coming toward him, the dress swishing gently around her slender ankles. It had to be the high heels making her hips sway so enticingly, or maybe it was the cut of the dress – Amanda simply didn't walk like that!

_Like what?_ his mind betrayed him by asking, then answering: _Like a woman. An incredibly desirable… sexy woman…_ He gulped what remained of his drink and set it down on a nearby table. "Who was that? Someone you know?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice casual.

She nodded, oblivious to the undercurrent of annoyance in his voice. "His name is Dave Wilkerson; he's the Fire Marshal. Jamie's class had a field trip to the fire station a couple weeks ago, and that's when I met him. He remembered me and asked me to dance. Wasn't that sweet?"

"Yeah," he agreed sourly, casting a scornful look Dave Wilkerson's way. "Real sweet."

"His poor wife Maggie, who's also on the PTA, is home with a broken leg," she continued, unwittingly making him feel a hundred times better about her dancing with the handsome Fire Marshal. "She fell off a ladder last weekend, painting their twin girls' bedroom."

"Ah, that's too bad," he replied sincerely, feeling his spirits lift. Before another man could swoop in and claim her attention, he quickly asked, "Want to dance?"

She gave him a questioning look at his sudden change in attitude. "Uh… okay, sure, I guess. If you want to, that is…"

"Of course I do," he said. He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out onto the dance floor just as a slow song began. Congratulating himself on his fortuitous timing, he pulled her close and they began swaying to the music. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips. He couldn't help but notice the perplexed look that remained on her face. "What's wrong?"

Pulling away enough to really look at him, Amanda smiled slightly. "Nothing, really. I just thought that… Well, earlier I thought you were implying that you wanted to mingle on your own. I wasn't expecting you to ask me to dance."

"Amanda…" He was momentarily at a loss for words. "I wasn't implying that I wanted to mingle on my own! Anyway, we're _just_ dancing. It's not like I never dance with you. Don't make such a big deal out of it."

_Nice job, Stetson. Way to win another dance with her…_

She stiffened in his embrace. "I'm _not_ making a big deal out of it," she retorted defensively, her brown eyes flashing in irritation. His heart stirred. Even when she was angry with him, seeing her eyes come so alive was always fascinating for him. Amanda had hidden depths of passion he was only just beginning to discover. She went on, "Why do you always assume that I'm making something out of nothing? All I'm saying is that I'm surprised you asked me to dance. Period."

He nodded, fighting the urge to wince. "All right, all right." Why was this happening? It seemed like they couldn't be together for ten minutes lately without arguing. And just what did she mean about making something out of nothing? Ignoring her rigid stance, he pulled her closer again, determined to enjoy having her in his arms even if she _was _angry with him. After a moment, she relaxed.

Another song began and when Amanda started to pull away, he held onto her firmly. She sighed and he felt her breath, warm against his neck. It sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He reflexively pulled her closer. When she didn't resist, he moved his hand higher on her back, his fingers finally making much-anticipated contact with her bare skin. She startled a bit at the feel of his hand on her back, but it worked to his advantage as it brought her even closer. He had to resist the urge to rub his hand over her skin.

She smelled so good that it was a struggle not to bury his face in her neck. He knew that if he did that, he would press his lips against her pulse, and then move them up to her jaw. His tongue would dart out to taste her skin as he slowly made his way toward her lips. A soft groan reverberated through his chest and came out in an exhalation. He felt Amanda shiver in response, but she didn't say anything.

Unable to stop himself, he felt his fingers start to make slow circles over the supple skin of her back. She squirmed a little and her hand twitched in his. It was sweet torture, holding her so intimately under the ruse of a simple dance. He wondered what she would do if he let his lips lightly brush her temple…

James and Marian McAllister danced by and the former senator's wife winked at Lee in an exaggerated fashion. "Now that's more like it, my boy!" she whispered loudly.

Lee had to stifle a growl of frustration. Amanda had backed away from him slightly, breaking the deliciously intimate contact they had achieved. "What was that about?" she asked, looking puzzled.

Chuckling a little despite his aggravation at the bad timing, Lee shrugged with feigned nonchalance. "Beats me. I think she's had a bit too much to drink tonight."

Amanda frowned. "I saw you talking to them earlier, when I was dancing with Dave," she commented. "That's the former Senator, and she's his wife. She doesn't seem tipsy to me, Lee."

"Well, maybe she has me confused with someone else, then," he offered.

A new song began, a faster paced one, and he held onto her hand to keep her from leaving. She smiled and stepped back into his embrace willingly. The next few songs were faster as well, and Lee was about to go up and request a slower number when one came on. Not giving Amanda a chance to pull away, he drew her closer and put his arm around her again.

The dance floor was quite crowded, and Lee and Amanda were nestled in the middle. It was as if they were insulated in their own little section of the dance floor. Rules that were the norm in their day-to-day dealings seemed to fly away. Lee wondered if Amanda felt it, too. He gently increased the pressure of his arm, bringing her as close as she could come and still keep dancing. Actually they were barely moving at all, given the press of the crowd.

Lee's hand traveled of its own volition, moving lightly up her back. He felt goose bumps rise on her warm skin as his hand rested intimately on her neck. His other hand held one of hers against his chest and he was sure she could feel the increased speed of his heartbeat. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he let his thumb rub against the skin behind her ear and felt her tremble against him.

Her voice shook as she tried to pull back. "Um… Lee? What…" She trailed off as if she didn't know quite how to ask what he was doing.

Lee held her firmly against him, not willing to let her go. "Amanda," he whispered. It was more a plea than anything else, and it escaped his lips before he knew what he was doing.

She looked up at him hesitantly, questioningly… her face scant centimeters away from his. Her eyes darkened and he knew that his expression revealed exactly what was on his mind. He could see her breath catch, could see the mystification in her eyes. There was no way Amanda was going to make the first move, not after hearing his reproaching speech so many times. Lee tried to smile but failed; all his lips were capable of at the moment was kissing her. Intent on accomplishing that goal, he moved forward and watched in fascination as her eyes flicked to his parted lips.

Lee found it difficult to breathe, especially when he felt Amanda's soft exhalation on his mouth. Her body had gone tense against his, as if she were preparing for flight but wasn't quite capable of it. Stroking the nape of her neck with his thumb, he applied subtle pressure, tipping her head back a little further. She didn't resist, but she still looked apprehensive. Her eyes fell closed with a fluttering of dark lashes, and he closed in on her lips…

Amanda was suddenly jostled out of his arms as another couple bumped into them. Both of them apologized profusely. Lee knew that it hadn't been intentional, but he was annoyed that the moment was spoiled. He accepted the repeated apologies with a terse smile. When he turned back to Amanda, she stepped further away and smoothed the front of her dress, saying, "Um, I'm just gonna go, ah… I'm thirsty." Then she was gone, moving hurriedly away from him through the dancing throng toward the refreshments table.

He had been so close to kissing her… she could have no doubt of it. Why, then, was she running away from him? Perhaps she was making her escape before he could play it off and pretend nothing had happened. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Lee followed her, unwilling to let her out of his sight. Unfortunately, his progress was suddenly blocked by the chesty bottle-blonde in the sky blue dress. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back onto the dance floor. Lee craned his neck to see where Amanda was, but she had her back to him – tantalizing him with that bare skin again – talking with the waiter pouring her drink. Lee didn't think it was his imagination that the waiter was leering at her.

"Ah," Lee managed, ignoring the cleavage that was currently being pressed against his chest. "Excuse me, but I came here with someone, and – "

"Doesn't mean you have to leave with her, sugar lips," she replied, batting her eyes at him. "You don't remember me, do you?" At his confused look, she went on. "We hooked up about eighteen months ago, after one of these soirees. It was right before one of your moon mission thingies. You said you'd call me when you got back to earth, but you never did. You were with that mousy little brunette then, too, only you didn't dance with her at all; you danced every dance with _me_. Who is she, your wife? Why don't you just ditch her, like last time?"

Lee vaguely remembered her, and he could scarcely believe that he had found her attractive, once upon a time. Trying not to breathe in her noxious perfume, he said, "No, she's not my wife. I didn't ditch her, either. As I said, I came here with her…"

"And as _I_ said, you don't have to leave with her," she insisted, reaching up on tiptoe to plant a kiss along his jaw line. "Last time, you called her a taxi cab and hustled her off. If that's not ditching, I don't know what is!"

He _had_ done that, hadn't he? They'd had a fight on the way to the event, and he had left her on her own almost the moment they walked in the door. It had been a simple meet; Billy had insisted he take Amanda along and he had resented it. Guilt washed over Lee. "I did?" he asked distractedly, hoping to get free before Amanda noticed him with this floozy. At her nod, Lee pried her fingers off of him and stepped away. "Excuse me."

As she stared after him in irritated disbelief, Lee made his way over to where Amanda stood nibbling on a chocolate-covered strawberry. He cast a warning look at the man who'd been making his way over to her. Defeated, he turned in another direction, scowling at Lee.

"Hey," Lee said, smiling. "I lost you for a minute there."

Amanda rolled her eyes and smiled somewhat tightly, tilting her head to get a better look at him. "Looks like you found someone else, so you couldn't have been too lonely."

"What?" he asked nervously, the feeling of culpability returning full force.

Picking up a napkin from a table, Amanda dabbed at his face. "Lipstick," she explained succinctly, looking exasperated. No, he realized. _Jealous._ "A _lovely_ shade of bubblegum pink. I think it's the same color the girls in Phillip's class are wearing this year. Of course they're _twelve_…"

"Oh," he said, nonplussed by the sarcastic-saccharine tone of her voice. He took the napkin from her gently and rubbed it over his face some more, hoping to remove all traces of the bombshell. "Actually, _she_ found _me_," he replied, quirking an eyebrow at her. "There's a difference, you know."

"And what?" she scoffed, looking at him defiantly. "You didn't _want_ to be found? That's a first." She bit into the strawberry, a thin trail of juice making its way down her chin. Holding up her hand, she cupped her palm to catch it.

He dabbed at her face now, trying to ignore the fantasy in his head in which he used his tongue instead of the napkin. _Control yourself, Stetson, _he chided himself inwardly. "No," he replied pointedly, "I did not." Especially not when it made Amanda angry and jealous, he added mentally, though it was rather nice to see her so riled over another woman's attentions. The flicker of hope sparked into a full-fledged inferno.

Amanda frowned slightly, and he realized he had been a bit short with her. There was no way she could even begin to guess the reason for his terseness. She shook her head and remarked, "Like I said, Lee, there's something strange about you tonight. You should have called me a cab by now." She moved away from him, stopping to look at him over her shoulder. "I noticed that your _special friend_ is here."

So she _had_ recognized the blonde, and remembered the outcome of that evening. Embarrassed, he followed her. Knowing what was causing her sour mood, he didn't want to let her out of his sight again. "A-man-da! Will you please stop walking away from me?" he complained.

Amanda turned back toward him, looking flustered. "What, Lee? Did you have something else to say?"

He stared at her for a moment, feeling foolish. He fumbled with his words. Now that he had her attention, he wasn't sure how to proceed. "I… I… No. I just want to sit down with you for a while, maybe have a little something to eat."

She raised her eyebrows, her expression dubious. "I don't know, Lee; it's kind of late to eat, and I already had dinner at home, but…"

"Oh, come on, it's just hors d'oeuvres," he said cajolingly, desperate to keep her close lest she find another dance partner. "I just thought we could relax a while and… talk."

She seemed to consider his words and finally nodded her somewhat reluctant agreement. "Okay. Where should we sit? What do you want to eat? I'll go get it."

Lee frowned. "What? You don't have to serve me, Amanda. I thought I'd get us a plate to share. Go ahead and pick a table, and I'll find you."

That inscrutable expression returned to her face, but she shrugged lightly and headed for an empty table. Had he really treated her so dismissively that she was really that surprised at his attempt to spend time with her? But he already knew the answer to that. How many times had he forcefully reminded her that there was nothing between them?

His opinion of and attitude toward her had done a complete one-eighty recently, and it was disorienting for him; he could only imagine how it must be for Amanda. The problem was how he was going to go about alerting Amanda to his changing feelings. The kiss would have been a start, had he succeeded, but by now she was likely already telling herself that _nothing_ had almost happened.

Lee frowned and then turned and made his way through the crowd to the corner, where long, elegantly decorated tables were laid out with all manner of finger foods and desserts. Filling a plate, he grabbed two flutes of champagne with his other hand and navigated his way back to where Amanda waited.

She was sitting sideways in her chair, watching the dancing. Her legs were crossed, the flounce of the dress exposing her shapely calves all the way up to her knees. For a moment, he simply stared at her; she really was the most beautiful woman here – no, anywhere. A glance around told him that he wasn't the only man who thought so. Nothing new about that, he reminded himself wryly.

When Amanda looked up and saw him standing there, he was galvanized into action. "Here we go," he said, giving her a three-hundred-watt smile as he took the chair right next to her and set down the plate of finger foods. In the past, he would have selected a seat a few away from her, but tonight he felt a compelling need to be near her, to explore the new way he felt about her.

He had been gradually changing in the way he saw Amanda for a while now, but only recently had he allowed himself to acknowledge that she was more to him than a friend and co-worker. This was also the first time that he was acknowledging perhaps there was more to her – a lot more – than met the eye. She was not, he noted ruefully, just a pretty face. She couldn't be defined simply by the labels he had attached to her for so long – mother, homemaker, little league coach, suburbanite. True, she was all of those things, but she was also so much _more_.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise at the pile of food. "I sure hope _you're_ hungry," she teased, sounding nervous. Picking up a slice of kiwi, she asked, "So what'd you want to talk about?"

"Oh you know… Nothing in particular," he said, keeping his tone casual. "We just don't talk much when we're not at work, unless you know, I drop by your house for a few minutes. I thought it might be nice. Can't we just sit here as friends and relax together for a little while?

Amanda looked at him curiously, the last bite of kiwi poised in mid-air. She looked as if she had just watched him sprout a horn from his forehead. "Well, yes… of _course_ we can. It's just that it's not very… normal, if you know what I mean. It's normal in general, but it's not normal for _us_. I feel at a bit of a loss not having anything to do like being a lookout while you contact someone or make a tradeoff with a microdot or disc or something. It's… _weird_."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," he said, keeping his tone light and teasing, though he was sure his eyes were conveying an underlying seriousness. "Come on. Look at all this food. Eat something."

"Okay, okay," she replied, her voice bordering on amusement and feigned annoyance. She scrunched up her nose at him and shook her head, reaching for a mini quiche. He enjoyed just watching her… listening to her. He felt as though he could spend an eternity in her company and never tire of her.

"So," he said, trying a mini quiche himself. "How are Phillip and Jamie doing?"

She shot him a slightly surprised look but shrugged elegantly. "Oh… well, they're good. Jamie, of course, does better in school, but Phillip is really trying. He's the more physical of the two, so he's better at sports. He keeps changing what he wants to do… baseball, football, police officer, archaeologist… It changes with every movie, television show, book, and sports game. Jamie is much more consistent… photographer and investigative journalist." Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Lee was taken aback. She had been warming up, talking about her sons, but the second she realized she might be annoying him, she reverted back to the tense demeanor of a moment ago. He realized, of course, that her rambling didn't irk him nearly as much as it would have at one time. In fact, he hadn't even noticed it. Before, he had always paid scant attention when she talked about her family. Now, he found that he enjoyed hearing about them and wanted to know how they were… a definite departure from the norm. "No, not at all. It's nice to hear about them… Nice and normal."

She laughed, her brow creasing slightly. "You don't _do_ normal, Lee," she rejoined, her tone self-deprecating. "You said so yourself."

He gave her a small smile, keeping eye contact with her. If he said too much, he might give her the wrong impression. But… what _was_ the wrong impression? He'd already tried to kiss her while they were dancing, and he knew she was aware of the fact. It was why she was so jittery and on edge now. "That might've been true at one time, Amanda, but… things can change."

"Ah," Amanda said, clearly at a loss for words. She glanced down at the plate between them, picking up a strawberry and pulling at its leaves and stem.

Knowing he had given her something to think about which was possibly making her even more nervous, he deftly changed the subject. "So," he said, lightening his tone. "Anything special planned for your weekend?"

She set down her champagne after taking a sip, still not quite making eye contact. "Yeah. The boys both have Little League tryouts, and I'm on the organizing committee, which means of course that I'm coaching again this year. Afterward, we're taking all the boys out for pizza, which I think they're looking forward to more than anything. Oh, and then Mother and I are taking them to see a movie, but they can't agree on which one they want to see."

Lee smiled. "I don't know how you do it all, Amanda," he said with sincerity.

"Oh…" Amanda blushed but waved off his compliment. She clearly didn't know how to act in the face of his admiration. Perhaps that was because he gave it so rarely.

Lee watched as she picked up another strawberry and bit off the end. He felt his pulse race watching her and gulped down his champagne. The way her lips curved around the succulent fruit was just too much. Did she even realize how sexy she looked doing that? He was sure she didn't have a clue, which made it even more sensual. Blinking rapidly, Lee played back the thought in his mind. He had just used the words _sexy_ and _sensual _in relation to Amanda. Again. He might as well throw in exotic and mysterious and be done with it. He was startled to find that the idea wasn't even that far off the mark. In many ways, Amanda _was_ a mystery to him.

"Lee, are you okay?" the object of his ruminations was asking, concern written on her features.

Her lips, he noted, were glazed with juice from the berry. The temptation to kiss it off her was nearly overwhelming. A memory flashed in his mind of the kiss they had shared in San Angelo at the sham wedding they'd gone through while on a case, and suddenly the room felt ten degrees warmer. It had been a bit of a shock when the minister told him to 'kiss the bride'. When their lips had met, his heart had beaten faster and he had found he didn't want to stop kissing her. He had even stolen a tiny second kiss. He gave her a crooked smile, dragging his thoughts back to the present. "Uh, yeah… fine."

"If you say so," she said dubiously.

The band started a slow, romantic number and several couples walked hand-in-hand onto the dance floor. Overwhelmed with the desire to have Amanda in his arms again, he reached across the table and gently traced her fingers with one of his. Her eyes met his, simultaneously widening and darkening, then looked away quickly. She started to draw her hand away slowly, but he hooked his pinkie around hers.

"This is a good song," he commented, his voice a raspy whisper. "Do you want to dance again?"

She looked at their joined hands in apparent confusion and licked her lips. "Uh… Oh, um… I'm actually kind of hungry. Do you mind if we just stay here for a while?"

Disappointed, he gave her a reassuring smile. "Okay, sure," he said, "maybe later."

Amanda gave him a small, uncertain smile in return and pulled at a piece of French bread. She wasn't hungry at all, he mused. He'd thrown her completely off-kilter tonight, and it obviously had her feeling uneasy. It was so easy to read her expressions. Lee felt as if she could hide her emotions well enough from anyone else, but not from him. He almost always knew what she was feeling when he looked at her.

"This is good bread," she said shakily, tearing it to pieces. She'd eaten less than half of it; the rest had ended up in tiny crumbs on the tablecloth in front of her.

Lee picked up a second piece of bread, buttered it, and bit off a large hunk, chewing and nodding. "You're right," he agreed. "It's very good."

Finished decimating the bread, she reached for a cocktail shrimp, dipping it in the spicy red sauce. "You know, I used to be allergic to seafood when I was little, but I grew out of it when I was a teenager. It was the same with Phillip; allergic for a few years and now he's fine. But Jamie's always been able to eat seafood, until last week. He ordered fish and chips and broke out in a terrible rash all over his torso."

Nodding and suppressing a grin at her anxious chatter, he offered, "I've never been allergic to seafood, but the Colonel sure was. He'd blow up like a balloon with just one bite of fish or shrimp."

"That's awful," she exclaimed.

"Amanda, what are _you_ doing here?"

Lee watched as Amanda turned slightly in her seat to see who had spoken. "Debbie? Oh, my gosh! I should have known I'd run into you here!" She stood up and gave her friend a hug. To Lee she said, "Lee, this is Debbie Ann McCabie-Jackson, a very good friend of mine. Her cousin Steve is a firefighter. Debbie, this is Lee Stetson, my boss."

He stood, smiling, and extended his hand. Debbie shook it, smiling warmly. "It's great to meet you," she said sincerely, but he could see speculation in her eyes, as though she were wondering if there were more to the relationship than Amanda let on. He got the distinct impression that Amanda had mentioned him to Debbie before. "Amanda, be sure to save a dance for Steve. He's the one who spotted you from across the room. He's still single, you know…"

"Oh, uh," Amanda stammered, casting an apprehensive glance in Lee's direction. He pretended not to notice. She must have realized that _something_ was happening between them when they danced together and during their conversation. He resisted a smug grin.

She was saved from answering when the emcee got up on stage and said they were going to heat things up a bit while the band took a break. "Here's a new one. Get out here on the dance floor, folks, especially you irresistible ladies!"

The pulsing guitars of a new Robert Palmer song began and Debbie grabbed Amanda's hand. "Oh, come on, you have to dance with me!" she cried.

Amanda cast another glance at Lee. "Oh, I don't know, Debbie."

"Go on," Lee said encouragingly. Amanda dancing with a childhood friend he could deal with; her childhood friend's single firefighting cousin, not so much. With any luck, however, he would intercept her before 'Steve' had the chance. "I'll wait right here."

Debbie needed no further coaxing, though Amanda might have. Her friend didn't give her a chance to find any other excuses, though, and pulled her into the dancing throng. Lee smiled a little, somewhat disappointed. If Debbie hadn't shown up, he might have had the courage to ask Amanda to dance with him again.

_How can it be permissible  
She compromised my principle, yeah yeah  
That kind of love is mythical  
She's anything but typical  
She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force  
You're obliged to conform when there's no other course  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her_

Simply irresistible  
Simply irresistible  


Amanda and Debbie danced to the driving beat. It was clear that their friendship was one of long-standing. It was interesting to see how Amanda opened up around someone she had known for so long and who placed no conditions on the relationship; her usual inhibitions seemed to fall away one by one as Lee watched.

Lee couldn't tear his eyes away from his partner, dancing just a few feet away from him. Each sway of her slender hips caused his collar to become a little tighter, and he vowed to throw the shirt away after tonight and buy a new one in a larger size. Amanda obviously didn't take herself too seriously as so many women he knew did. She and her friend were laughing as they danced together, drawing admiring stares from several men on the dance floor.

It was a bit disconcerting how well the song's lyrics fit how Lee felt about Amanda. Each line fit flawlessly with how he was feeling. Amanda was definitely irresistible.

_  
She's unavoidable, I'm backed against the wall  
She gives me feelings like I never felt before  
I'm breaking promises, she's breaking every law  
She used to look good to me, but now I find her  
Simply irresistible_

After the song, Amanda disappeared with Debbie. He caught sight of them across the room by the door. It looked like Debbie and her husband were getting ready to leave, because she and Amanda hugged one another and then Amanda hugged the tall man next to Debbie. Lee watched closely, but there didn't appear to be any sign of Debbie's single cousin. Five minutes later, Amanda headed back to the table and sat down, giving Lee a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. I had to go and say hi to her husband Jake, before they left."

"That's okay," he said, meaning it. He'd enjoyed watching her dance, though he wished that the other men present hadn't enjoyed it quite so much.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know why I didn't realize Debbie and Jake might be here," she said, and then winced. "Oh, these shoes are killing me," she complained lightly. Leaning over, she reached down to pull off one of her shoes and rubbed her sore foot carefully, not realizing that in doing so, she was providing Lee with an enhanced view of her cleavage.

He was unable to keep his eyes from following her movement. His breath grew shallow as he stared at her. Was she even wearing a bra?!

Lee's reaction was prompt and clumsy. In an attempt to distract himself from the sight, he reached for an hors d'oeuvres but knocked Amanda's glass over in the process. It ran straight off the edge of the table and all over Amanda's gown. Straightening, she stared in surprise, first at the tipped glass and then at Lee's equally stunned face.

"How did _that_ happen?" she asked, not at all angry, as would have been almost any other woman Lee had taken out, but merely curious. She set about blotting the beaded gown to no avail.

"Amanda," Lee said, horrified and embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened!"

"It's all right, Lee," she said. "But I think I'm going to have to go home. My dress will need to go to the cleaners, but I should soak it tonight so the stain doesn't set." Her eyes widened in dismay. "Oh, when am I going to have time to take it? I won't have a spare moment tomorrow, with everything else that's going on."

"I'll take it," he offered, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even think them. It was, after all, his fault. Besides, he could pay extra to take it to the one-day cleaners, and then bring it back to her Saturday night, giving him a chance to see her again before Monday. Pleased with his plan, he looked at her expectantly.

She raised her eyebrows at his offer. "You will? Are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," he assured her. "It was my fault in the first place. You can change and soak your dress at my place, since you have spare clothes in my trunk," he reasoned. "Then I'll take it to the cleaner's first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, Lee," she said, clearly relieved. "I'm afraid that it would be ruined otherwise. I really appreciate your doing that for me."

_There's not much I wouldn't do for you, Amanda,_ his inner voice said, and he knew that it was true. Things were becoming much more complicated where his partner was concerned, and he found that he didn't really mind.

He ran a hand through his hair. This was _not_ how he had pictured the evening ending, but at least she wasn't angry with him. "Yeah, okay, sure. Let's get the car and I'll take you back to my place."

"Okay," she agreed, standing and picking up her handbag.

As they maneuvered their way through the crowd, they encountered Senator and Mrs. McAllister. Knowing it would be rude to simply keep moving past them, Lee stopped, his hand automatically moving to rest on the small of Amanda's back. "Good night, Senator, Mrs. McAllister," he said.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, "Amanda added.

Marian McAllister gave Lee a saucy wink. "Leaving so soon, you two?" she asked, her tone playfully suggestive. "I thought you young people would close the place down. Why, it's not even eleven yet!"

"Ah, yeah," Lee answered with a rueful smile. "We would have liked to, but we can't."

Amanda nodded, adding, "I accidentally spilled champagne all over my dress. Lee's taking me back to his place so I can take it off and soak it." Realizing the implication of her words and seeing the look of utter delight on Mrs. McAllister's face, she added quickly, "We work together, so I keep a spare set of clothes in his car!"

"Mmm hmm," the Senator's wife said, nodding knowingly, her eyes taking in what Lee knew was his dazed expression at having heard Amanda say 'Lee's taking me back to his place so I can take it off'. "Well, okay, then, you two. Have a lovely evening together."

Lee glanced tensely at Amanda, who looked discomfited herself, for an entirely different reason, he was sure. "Oh, no! We're not spending the evening together, Mrs. McAllister," she replied demurely, and then blushed. "Oh gosh. I mean… See, my car is at Lee's apartment. I'll just change my clothes really quick and then head home."

"What a pity," she said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head woefully.

Amused but also aware of Amanda's discomfort, Lee grinned and shook his head at the Senator's gregarious wife. She meant well, he knew she did, and evidently she saw right through him. He had to tread carefully; irritating a former senator's wife would not bode well for his career. There was no real harm in letting her think there was something between him and Amanda, if it made her so happy. The Senator gave Lee an apologetic shrug and gently steered his wife away. "Good night, Lee. Good night, Mrs. King. It was a pleasure to see you both again."

"Likewise," Lee answered, grateful that the awkward moment was over. But it wasn't… not quite.

Amanda was frowning, her expression perplexed. "What was _that_ all about?" she asked. "That was the second time tonight she said something like that."

Lee laughed, hoping he didn't look and sound as nervous as he suddenly felt under her scrutiny. He felt so… transparent. Opening the door leading out into the lobby, he said, "Uh… Well, Mrs. McAllister said earlier what a charming couple we make. She's convinced that we're… _together_."

To his chagrin, Amanda laughed, clearly finding the situation humorous… or, he cringed, possibly ludicrous. But no… her behavior tonight had suggested otherwise. "Now where would she get an idea like _that_? I mean, really… just because we work together…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Oh, that's crazy."

At one time, he would have been relieved by her response and agreed with her whole-heartedly. Now, however, it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Did she really feel that way? Or was she merely saying what she thought he wanted to hear? He knew without a doubt that it was the latter.

Deciding it was time to give her something to think about, he muttered under his breath, "It's not _that_ crazy!" He sighed and started walking away. Then, more clearly, he said, "Let's go find a valet." Not hearing her footsteps behind him, he turned. "Are you coming or not?"

She was standing where she had been, her head tilted to one side, her expression perplexed. So she _had _heard him, he thought with satisfaction. Good. Raising his eyebrows in silent inquiry, he watched as she licked her lips and nodded mutely, hurrying to catch up with him. He turned away again, a smug grin springing to his face. Once she was at his side, he reached out and took her hand in his. She would, he knew, wonder all night if she had heard him correctly.

Back at his place, he opened the car door for her and then went around to his trunk, pulling out the sack of Amanda's spare clothes and tennis shoes. He would actually be glad to see her dressed in her everyday clothes… Amanda the goddess would disappear and he would stop longing to take her into his arms. Amanda in everyday clothes was easier to keep his hands off of… wasn't she?

"Lee?" Amanda said, moving around to the back of the car. "Do you still have my clothes in the back?"

He jumped slightly, coming out of his reverie. "Yeah, uh, they're right here."

She smiled, reaching for the bag. "Oh, good! You were taking so long I thought that maybe they weren't in here anymore. The sooner I get out of this dress, the better."

Running a hand through his hair, he grinned, knowing that he must look ridiculously goofy. 'The sooner I get out of this dress, the better.' He felt the smile falter, knew his pupils dilated widely, and felt his heart begin to beat so fast it might explode. Just the words she had spoken were enough fodder for a month of dreams!

"No… uh, they're here," he said inanely. "I mean, they were here… in the trunk. You have them now, so they were there. In the car." He cringed, wanting to drop down a manhole. Where was his trademark Stetson smoothness? Somehow, whenever he was around Amanda lately, it fled the scene.

Amanda's brow was furrowed as she stood there watching him and listening to him blabber on like an idiot. She looked a bit bemused, as though she couldn't quite figure him out. "Yep," she said, her voice taking on that raspy quality he loved. It seemed to get that way late at night; he heard that voice in his dreams, whispering in his ear and against his lips, saying things that made his blood race.

What… Amanda was talking again! What was she saying? He concentrated on listening to her words instead of watching her mouth. "So… do you think we could go in now? Or should I change right here on the sidewalk?" she asked in a teasing tone, tightening her shawl.

Again his mind wandered, envisioning her peeling off her dress right there on a public street. Was she wearing red panties? A garter? Slip? That was it; he was going to spontaneously combust. He swallowed hard, wondering if she had any idea what she was doing to him. "Yeah! Yeah, good idea. Let's go on in."

She shook her head, eyeing him warily. "It's a good thing we left early after all," she said. "I think you need to get to bed."

"You have _no _idea," he replied fervently, walking beside her and jiggling his keys in nervous agitation. He felt her eyes upon him but didn't return her gaze, afraid that looking at her right now might cause his self-control to snap like a taut rubber band. What was wrong with him anyway?

Inside, he hurriedly tossed his towels and dirty laundry from the bathroom floor into the hamper, closed his medicine cabinet, wiped out the sink, and set out a fresh towel with which Amanda could blot her dress.

"There you go," he said, stepping out of the bathroom but hovering close by. Amanda went inside and turned to close the door to find him still standing there, leaning against the jamb. It was a strange but wonderful thing, standing here with Amanda in his bathroom, about to undress. At her look of inquiry, he said, "Uh… can I get you anything?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm just anxious to change. My skin is sticky and itchy."

Lee gulped. With any other woman, he would offer to remedy her stickiness and itchiness… With Amanda, however, he simply nodded in understanding and backed away from the door, again wondering when he would ever regain control of himself.

"Okay, then," he said, and moved away as she shut the door. He pulled off his tie, shoving it into his pants pocket so he wouldn't forget it when he dropped off his tux and Amanda's dress. The idea of taking their dry-cleaning in together put another silly grin on his face. _Don't be an idiot, Stetson,_ he chided himself.

But then he heard the water running in the bathroom. It had only been a minute; had Amanda already changed into her other clothes or was she standing there, scantily clad, rinsing out her gown? His swallowed hard as he thought about it, again curious about her undergarments. Up until now, if it had even _occurred_ to him to wonder, he would have pictured utilitarian white cotton. But now… his imagination was running away with him!

The water stopped and he heard nothing else but her soft humming for a few minutes. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he waited for her, enjoying the knowledge that she was there and wondering what it would be like to have her there with him all the time. Alarmed, he mentally backpedaled. There was no need to think in those terms, was there? But he knew there was. With Amanda, he would be in a real relationship, committed and serious.

While the idea – surprisingly – appealed to him, he knew he had to tread carefully. Not only did he have to be certain it was what he wanted, but that it was what she wanted, and he had to know that their friendship was still the most important thing. Many of his married friends had told him that a good marriage should be based on a good friendship. If that were true, his only candidates for a wife were Amanda and Francine, and he could _not _picture himself entering holy matrimony with the prickly blonde.

Oh, boy. He was sitting here, thinking about marriage. Marriage! He had to slow down… way down. He'd never thought of himself as the marrying kind, but somehow that self-image was beginning to change.

"Lee, do you have a hanger I could borrow?" she called out.

He stood, moving over to the closet. "Sure," he answered, turning as the door opened.

She came out of the bathroom holding her wet gown away from her body. The jeans she had changed into were an old pair, soft and well-worn with small holes in the knees. Her pale yellow sweater was of a thin material and she had pushed up the sleeves to her elbows. The neckline was scooped wide, exposing her perfect collarbone and a glimpse of her shoulders. But his attention was focused on only one fact… he had been right earlier in guessing she wasn't wearing a bra. It was a struggle to draw his eyes up and keep them on her face.

Her face, beautiful and pixie-like, was framed by her dark curls, her doe eyes adorned with more makeup than usual. She had loosened her hair but had put it back up in a messy ponytail, with tendrils escaping around her face and neck.

Wordlessly he handed her the hanger and watched as she hung up her dress. She glanced around his room. "Where should I hang it?" she asked.

"Just hang it in the doorway," he said, his eyes following her as she moved over to it. When she reached up with the hanger, her sweater rode up slightly, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. So much for the spell being broken once she was in jeans, he thought ruefully. "I'll take my tux and your dress in at the same time."

"Okay," she agreed, turning back to face him with a smile. She was completely unaware of how close he was to crossing the room and taking her into his arms. How could he feel like this without her knowing it? But then he knew the answer to that question. _He_ had made sure she would never interpret his actions as indicating attraction or romantic interest.

"Thanks again for offering to take care of it for me, Lee."

"No problem," he replied, hoping his voice wasn't giving him away. Glancing at the clock, he was tempted to asking her to stay for a night cap, but it wasn't a good idea. She had a busy day coming up, for one thing, and would probably thank him and politely refuse. Besides, Lee wasn't at all sure he would be able to keep his hands off her, and anything physical right now would be detrimental. This was all way too new. "Can I walk you out to your car?"

"Sure," she said easily. "I'd appreciate it."

Little did she know that she couldn't have stopped him from doing so. He found that he didn't want to let her go yet, and was going to stick close to her until she drove away. They left his apartment together, chatting about the evening. The air was colder than just a few minutes ago, so Lee removed his jacket and draped it over Amanda's shoulders.

"Oh, thank you," she said, her voice shy once again. She grasped the lapels of the jacket, pulling it more closely around her slender frame.

"My pleasure," he said, placing his hand in the small of her back.

"So… have a good weekend," he said when they reached her car, his voice gruff.

She smiled, jiggling her keys. "You too, Lee. I had a nice time tonight."

"Me too," he replied, staring at her lips. His mind raced to find ways to prolong their conversation just a little longer. He didn't want to say goodbye to her. "I'll uh… see you on Monday morning?" He knew if he told her he was planning to have her gown cleaned in time to take it to her Saturday night, she would make a fuss.

Nodding, she said, "Uh-huh – bright and early. Goodnight, Lee."

"Yeah." He watched as she unlocked her car and tossed her sparkly evening handbag onto the passenger side seat. It had looked incongruous with her casual jeans and sweater.

Amanda turned back toward him again. She tilted her head to one side, her eyes sparking with mischievous intent. "You know, I've been thinking all night that you're not quite yourself," she said, reaching out to touch his cheek with the back of her hand. Leaving it there, she said, "I hope you're not coming down with that flu that's going around."

"It's not the flu," he whispered roughly, grasping her wrist. He knew she was aware that he didn't have the flu. She had to know by now that his 'fever' was something else entirely. Turning her hand, he placed her palm against his face. "It's _not_ the flu," he said again, louder this time, looking deeply into her eyes.

Amanda watched, looking expectant, as he stepped closer to her. She took a small step backward but hit her rear on the back door of her car, and Lee moved forward until he was pressing her against it. "Okay, I'm glad," she answered him, her voice gone raspy. "It must be something else causing you to act so… out of character."

"Must be," he agreed, his eyes on her lips. He had dropped his hand but hers remained on his cheek, cool against the fevered blood racing beneath his skin.

She raised one eyebrow. "Lee…," she whispered, but didn't finish whatever she'd been about to say. Her eyes darkened as she gazed up at him.

He had placed his hands on the roof of her car on either side of her and had progressively eased closer. It was tempting to kiss her lips, but he worried about moving things along too fast. He had almost done so earlier on the dance floor, but it had been easier then to ignore the realities of how such a move would change their relationship. Out here, in the cold night air, he was a bit more clear-headed, but just a bit. Still, he wanted to leave her in no doubt of what was on his mind. Her body had gone perfectly motionless against his and he wondered if she was holding her breath.

Slowly, he pressed his lips to her forehead, not in a quick, platonic peck, but in a slow, lingering, intentional kiss. He felt her exhale shakily against his throat as her fingers flexed against his face. Her other hand had come up to grip his bicep, and despite her firm hold he could feel her trembling.

Leaning down, he whispered, his lips grazing her ear, "Goodnight, Amanda." Then he forced himself to push away from the car and from her, every nerve ending crying out in protest. He hoped hers were, too.

"Good night, Lee," she replied, her voice quavering in the night air.

Smiling to himself, Lee moved to walk away.

"Oh, Lee, your jacket," she said.

He turned to see her pulling it off her shoulders. She took a few steps forward and held it out to him. Reaching out, he took it, his fingers grazing hers. Giving her a slight squeeze, he smiled again. Then he reluctantly let go, and turned away again. He didn't look back until he was inside his building. Then he turned, partly to see her one last time and gauge her reaction, and partly to make sure she drove away safely.

As he stood there, he watched as Amanda got into her car and closed the door. She pulled on her seatbelt and buckled it, all the while staring straight ahead. A smile slowly spread across her face; he could see it clearly, even in profile. Then she started her car and drove away. He watched until her tail lights faded from view.

smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk*smk

Lee pulled his Corvette up several houses away from Amanda's home. He had learned, over the years, to vary his parking location. Suburban neighbors seemed to have nothing better to do than glance out their windows to see who was visiting whom, and how often, especially when they were home on a Saturday night with nothing more entertaining to do than watch the Movie of the Week.

Amanda's house was dark; she and her family must not be home yet from whatever movie Phillip and Jamie had decided they both wanted to see. He smiled, thinking of her sons. They were pretty good kids; he wouldn't mind getting to know them better. After watching them grow up the past few years, he felt as if he did know them, in a way.

He waited patiently, closing his eyes for a few minutes and leaning his seat back. There was nothing he had to do; all that waited for him at home was a glass of wine and the evening news. It was a lonely existence by choice; ever since his feelings for Amanda had started to grow and change in nature, he had stopped seeing other women. Even though they weren't 'together', he _wanted _to be together, and therefore he felt that having another woman over to spend the evening was tantamount to cheating.

Light flooded the inside of his car as Amanda's station wagon drove past and continued down the street to turn into her driveway. He wondered if she had noticed his car. As he watched, her family got out and went into the house. Lights came on first downstairs, then upstairs. If Amanda had seen his car, she would be waiting for him. With a grin, he reached over to the passenger side and unhooked her gown, draping it over his arm.

Making his way to the backyard, he peered into her kitchen window but didn't see her. With a mental shrug, he moved to sit down on the picnic table and wait. Thankfully the back porch light was out, and he was virtually invisible. It would be awkward at best if Dotty or one of the boys saw him skulking around in their backyard.

After a few minutes, he saw Amanda enter the kitchen. He stood, expecting her to come right outside. Instead, she turned on the oven, started pulling things from cupboards, and washed her hands. As she was drying them off, he knocked softly on the back door. She turned, looking somewhat surprised as she headed over to glance out and make sure it was him.

"Lee, what are you doing here on a Saturday night?" she asked as she stepped outside with him.

He smiled. "I just wanted to drop this off," he said, holding her dress out to her, the hook of the hanger dangling from his index finger.

"Oh, my gosh, Lee," she replied in surprise. "I didn't expect you to bring it tonight… How did you even get it back so quickly?" Her eyes widened as she took the dress from him and hung it from a plant hook. "Tell me you didn't pay extra to have it done in one day!"

His grin widened. "Don't worry about it, Amanda," he replied. He would have paid ten times the normal dry-cleaning rate to see her again tonight. "I know Mr. Chang personally; he's a contact of mine." This was true, but it was also true that Fred Chang had extracted three times the normal dry-cleaning rate to have the dress ready for Lee to pick up by closing time at six.

"Well, thanks," she said with a small smile. "How much do I owe you?"

Lee frowned. "A-man-da, I'm the one who spilled the drink all over it. You don't owe me anything."

She smiled at his tone. "If you insist…"

"I do," he replied, glad she hadn't put up any more of an argument. "So… what movie did you end up seeing?"

Amanda rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "'Space Camp'," she told him. "Kind of silly, but the boys enjoyed it a lot. Mother and I would rather have seen 'A Room with a View' but of course that's not appropriate for the boys, not that they would enjoy it anyway."

"We could go see it," he said, shrugging casually.

She raised her eyebrows. "What, 'A Room with a View'? Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he said defensively. "Why not? We could grab a bite of dinner together before or after, depending on the showing time… it would be fun."

"Since when do you consider romantic 'chick flicks' to be fun?" she asked wryly, a crooked smile playing about her lips.

He stared at her intently. "Ever since I found a chick I wouldn't mind taking," he teased lightly, but he knew the teasing didn't quite reach his eyes.

Her smiled grew wider; he could tell she was very pleased with his answer. "Okay, then… when?" she challenged.

"What about tomorrow night?" he countered, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. "We can check the times in the paper and go from there. Are you free?"

She pretended to think about it. "I guess I can manage it," she said flippantly, obviously trying to keep it casual.

Lee reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good. It's a date then."

"It is?" Her eyes widened.

He nodded, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Yes," he answered firmly, then whispered into her ear, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Amanda."

"O-okay," she stammered. Though it was dark, he knew she was blushing.

Grinning to himself, he walked out of her yard, already looking forward to perusing the movie section of the paper when he got home.

A date. A very normal, dinner-and-a-movie date with Amanda King. Yeah, he liked the sound of that… a lot.

The End


End file.
